


Quick Work

by Azuiden



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, theyre awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuiden/pseuds/Azuiden
Summary: Ambiguous pre-established relationship not so much taking its first steps into physical intimacy as it is diving headfirst into it. Set some time during the events of the game.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Heartman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Quick Work

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry in advance for everything that comes out of Heartman's mouth. (Also I didn't proof read the second half of this so, Sorry about that too lmao.)

Heartman straddled Sam's thighs with unsure hesitancy. The porter's brows twisted together as his eyes wandered up and down the cool blue suit. If he stared long enough he might be able to distinguish the true shade through the blue and pink neon lights that illuminated the room. His skin tingled where Heartman touched him, even through clothing it was nearly unbearable. Nearly. His hands hovered over the scientist's sides, afraid that if he made the move to connect he would be pushed over his limit and throw the fragile man off. At least the floors were padded.

"It's okay." Heartman whispered. They were alone right now but the moment was between them and he didn't wish to disturb it. "I can see you're uncomfortable." There was a softness to his voice, an understanding. Sam had his limits, this would take time.

Heartman began to push himself off of the other, to move away so they could get back to their respective business. Heartman had a few samples to analyze and a research paper to read anyhow. There was always plenty to do. No need to push his luck, especially with Sam. Sam had gone across the continent and back 10 times over with his legendary deliveries. He earned a right to rest. Or at least, since Sam didn't quite understand the true definition of rest, he deserved to be left alone and given space.

As Heartman shifted, however, he felt a firm pressure around his waist. Both of Sam's hands held him tightly and pulled back. This time, Heartman was fitted snuggly against the other. The hard plastic of the AED between them dug into the porter's ribs, the soft beeps muffled against the padded tank top. 

As soon as Heartman registered how close he was, the gentle pips quickened into a distressed chirping. It was the only sound in the room now besides Sam's breathing. Even with a fire raging just beneath his skin where they pressed together, each inhale was calm.

Heartman on the other hand, nearly forgot to breathe entirely. It was only when he was trying to cover the faint gasp as he caught his breath that he instinctively reached for the controls on the very top of his AED. A fingertip lingered on a familiar switch- the switch that he'd pressed so many times before in order to mute the device. With a click, the room was plunged into complete silence. 

A second later with another click, the discordant beeping, returned.

"Sam?" Heartman started, though no other words left his mouth after. Instead it hung slightly open as he tried to conjure an explanation for wanting to mute his own heart monitor that wasn't _too_ embarrassing. The thought of having that voice interrupt them frightened him. The last time he was with someone was 10 years ago, years before he even needed it to keep him grounded in the world of the living. Now that he was thinking about it, however, he was ashamed he assumed _that's_ where this was going. It was a fantasy so prevalent in his mind that for a moment he believed it was real. 

"I like it." Sam grumbled, glancing down at the screen that displayed its information in light blues. "It's like… background noise. I'm used to it." Since Heartman started allowing him to rest here, the scientist's heartbeat settled into an ambiance that was so familiar that the air felt too still without it.

"Oh…" Heartman was at a loss for words for once. Normally he could easily fill his 21 minutes with his own voice but now his mind was laser focused on their proximity. 

They sat like that until Heartman's monitor began to slow. That seemed to be the permission Sam was waiting for to continue. The hands on the scientist's waist went down to his thighs to wrap around him firmly. Thick calluses from years of porting caught on the fine fabric of dress pants and Heartman jolted at the relatively tame escalation. Having his thighs grabbed shouldn't have warranted such a dramatic reaction, but his face still turned a bright shade of pink and the beeping spiked once more.

"How much time do we have?" The porter focused back on the other's face. The moment of eye contact was too much to handle while also controlling his instinct to crawl away and he had to divert them to the room around them as if searching for an answer there instead.

The question caught Heartman off guard. "O-oh" He stammered, pushing up his glasses just so he had _something_ to do with his hands. “15 minutes.” Heartman finally spat out after taking a look at his cufflink.

“Mm.” Sam furrowed his brows, willing himself to look back into Heartman’s face. “That’s not a lot…”

“No, it isn’t…” Heartman’s eyes dropped. During their first face to face meeting Heartman had said that intercourse wasn’t something he needed to worry about. Now, he was eating his words. 

Sam scooped Heartman up suddenly in one motion. His hands slid under his ass and lifted him at the same moment that Sam shifted to stand. Heartman let out a surprised gasp, arms flying around Sam’s neck and shoulders to stabilize himself.

“Sam—” The porter turned in his spot, Sam now faced the couch while Heartman clung to his front awkwardly. Not so carefully, Sam dumped Heartman onto the couch. Or, tried to. The scientist’s arms still ringed his neck desperately in confusion and they had to be pried off by the wrist.

“What are you—” Both of Heartman’s hands were grasped firmly and held in place between them. They had been touching for a few minutes _maybe_ and while Heartman hadn’t seen the points of contact under Sam’s clothes, he could see the faint red marks rising to the surface around his neck and shoulders.

“Only have 15 minutes. We have to be quick.” Sam answered with a stern but quiet voice only barely above a whisper. 

Heartman’s eyes widened under crooked lenses. Sam was okay with trying to work around his condition then? He’d expected the other to relent just as he had. It was intimidating. If both of them lost track of time, well... Heartman didn’t want to think about that, but it was a very real possibility. 

Sam, used to manhandling cargo, pushed Heartman’s legs together and repositioned them on the couch to allow him space to straddle the other’s thighs. The spots where they connected stung with numbness, like the static of a sleeping limb. His arms caged Heartman’s head like steel beams. 

A second passed between them with no movement before Sam spoke up again. “Is this okay?” Concern painted his face.

That seemed to be enough to snap Heartman out of his stupor because he was suddenly nodding his head furiously. “ _Very_ okay. Great, actually.”

Heartman reached a gloved hand out to ghost over Sam’s chest. A tingling below his waist told him how much he’d wanted to touch Sam. Touch him _anywhere_. But right now he wanted to feel the muscle under his finger tips. His eyes flicked to Sam’s to ask for silent approval and it was only when he was met with a nod that he indulged himself. 

Even through the padded vest, Heartman could feel what could only be the result of a decade of porting. The relaxed muscle was soft but still rigid underneath. Heartman imagined the numerous hefty deliveries that led naturally to Sam’s form with a clinical interest.

Sam flexed his pecs after noting Heartman’s amusement and received a sheepish grin in response.This time Heartman imagined Sam’s chest pressed against his back, his own face pressed into the floor and suddenly his mind left professional curiosity in the dirt in the same way his blood left his brain.

Not wanting to focus on one spot too long, Heartman continued his exploration downwards. His hands settled on Sam’s sides and his fingers bunched up the front of his shirt bit by bit to expose his stomach. From his position under Sam, he could see the cross-shaped scar on his abdomen. He would have liked to stop to admire it if he weren’t on a schedule. Besides, the tent in Sam’s pants called for his attention.

Heartman ran his palm over it, eliciting a shudder from the porter. Sam only watched. Up until this point, the only person he had sex with was Lucy. While she was very sure about what she wanted, usually she told Sam what to do. Left to himself, Sam always worried he was doing something wrong. Heartman seemed to know what he wanted in much the same way and now that he was given permission, was taking it with a fervor.

The gloved hand worked at the buttons with haste. Sam sighed at the feeling of no longer being confined so tightly. Now, his bulge strained against his boxers and spilled dramatically out of the front of his pants. The gloves had to come off if he were to continue like this, both of them tossed to the floor in uncharacteristic disregard.

“I think after today, _The Legend_ will have a different connotation for me.” Heartman took a moment to admire the view with a pleased grin.

Sam’s face went red, redder than it already was just from being touched. He wanted to look away again but his face was pulled in by a force at the back of his head. 

Their lips met with a little too much momentum but Heartman’s enthusiasm translated well into infectious hunger. Sam pushed into the kiss too, not even noticing the needy rocking of his hips as his erection subconsciously sought attention. Heartman only pulled away when he began grappling at his AED. 

“Did I do something?” Sam panted with genuine worry in his mumbled words. The porter leaned back to a more upright position.

“No, no. The uh,” Heartman snapped his fingers then gestured vigorously at his desk. The rapid beat that his monitor set made the situation feel high intensity. “The lube. In my desk. Top right drawer.” Those were all complete sentences but brevity sounded strange from his normally patient but long-winded cadence. He was more focused on unclipping his AED from his chest. The orange strap around his shoulder fell loose with a click and the one constraining his midsection went next.

Sam did a double take at the desk in question. Lube? _In his desk?_ Why was it there? Did Heartman need it on hand? The man _did_ live alone, Sam considered. An impatient but playful slap on his thigh sent him into action.

In the brief instant Sam crossed the room, the AED was completely removed, save for the wires connecting to his chest. The case was placed to the side, between himself and the back of the couch for the time being. This allowed him the freedom to take off his suit jacket and begin the process of unbuttoning the collared shirt underneath. Normally, Heartman would take great care with preserving his wardrobe. Discarding clothing onto the ground like trash wasn’t something he’d ever be caught doing. This, of course, would be an exception. No time to neatly hang his suit jacket in the closet, he had to get his pants off _right now._

Sam returned just in time to watch Heartman shimmying his pants down. He felt a little like they were skipping a few steps which made him a bit nervous. Not because he didn’t _want to_ continue, but Sam only had so much experience and Lucy had been extremely patient with him. He was so unused to this- so unused to seeing Heartman like this. Heartman always seemed so professional and had a certain awkward eloquence; like the clumsy majesty of a deer slipping on ice. 

Seated on the couch, Heartman slipped his thumbs into his boxers and pushed them down. His hard-on bounced against his abdomen dramatically with the rushed motion. With his underwear and pants around his knees now, he beckoned the other. Sam shuffled over. Another second was wasted with him standing at the Heartman’s side, eyes glued between his legs. 

Until he realized Heartman was watching him as well and he sharply turned his head in any other direction.

“Uh,” Sam turned the bottle over to feign reading the ingredients, “Are we going to… Are you…” _What’s going where?_ is what he wanted to ask. Sam was no stranger to crude language but this was something else.

“Ah- sit down.” Heartman nodded in understanding while he pulled off his shoes to remove his garments the rest of the way. Sam obediently sat at the end of the couch, body turned to the other. “I don’t have a particular inclination for either position. With your condition, I figured you having the ability to control the level of contact may benefit you— and it may be less distressing should we lose sight of our time limit.”

Sam gave the other a quizzical look. Heartman, now free from anything constraining his lower half, laid back once more and let his knees dip to the sides. The view elicited an even deeper hue across Sam’s cheeks.

“ _Please_ fuck me, Sam.”

God, how did he get here? He wasn’t sure he ever heard anything even mildly provocative from Heartman’s mouth that wasn’t unnecessarily clinical. How could Heartman talk about who was about to top in the _exact_ same inflection he would talk about beaches and BTs? How could Sam’s cock ache just from hearing his voice despite that? One of Heartman’s idle hands went to his dick to lightly stroke himself. The sight sent a spike of heat through Sam’s body. 

Finally, Sam flipped the cap on the bottle and squeezed its contents out on two fingers. This part was somewhat familiar to him. Lucy and him had done some experimenting and Sam could personally attest that some level of preparation was required. No matter how horny he was, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Heartman.

Sam scooted forward, positioning himself between Heartman’s legs. There was only a moment of hesitance before he brought his fingers to the scientist’s entrance. The cool gel spread over the tight ring of muscle. Heartman bit his lips together at the sudden cold against him. Sam’s eyes flicked to his companion’s face, as if to seek permission once more before he went forward. Heartman gave an eager nod and Sam responded by applying some force with his index finger. With the slickness, it gave way easily up to the first knuckle. 

The muscle tightened around him momentarily in conjunction with a slight gasp. The noise stopped any progress past that in its tracks as Sam glanced back up.

“Sam, I appreciate your conscientiousness. However, I have to ask that you not worry about me. I’m not as fragile as I may seem.” Heartman said through a crooked smile and strained voice as he tried to focus his mind enough to form words.

Though Heartman hadn’t slept with anyone in over a decade, the situation wasn’t unfamiliar to him either. Before his wife, Heartman had his fair share of hookups— indiscriminate of gender. Not to mention his wife would indulge him in his inclination for femdom. Most wouldn’t be able to guess from his geeky persona, but Heartman fucks.

The porter responded immediately with another nudge of his hand. Sam’s thick digit sunk in further, met only with surprised resistance. Sam could feel the other beginning to relax around him. Heartman stroking himself with more determination encouraged Sam to go further. 

The finger fucked into him, growing more persistent with every passing moment. Sam fought the urge to ask if Heartman was okay again. The flushed face and tightened jaw coupled with the beeping of the AED told Sam that Heartman was doing more than fine.

Sam’s dick had barely been touched and yet he felt like he was moments away from bursting through his boxer briefs. Sam pressed his palm against himself with a sigh. Any pressure or friction was welcomed, though now his mind wandered to the thought of burying himself into the ready and willing man in front of him. It was funny how he never thought of Heartman as attractive until very recently. He would have never looked twice at the man, but now seeing his legs splayed open and brows knitted together under askew spectacles set his heart thumping in his chest with desire.

Heartman jerked his hips against Sam’s fingers. Being stretched felt good but he was impatient. With an acknowledging grunt, Sam pulled his hand away and stuffed the front of his pants and briefs down just enough to finally expose himself.

Sam ran the meat of his hand over himself in a practiced motion. Maybe he didn't generally find most people sexually attractive but that didn't mean he was a stranger to recreational stress relief.

Heartman lifted his head in time to watch Sam begin lining himself up. His eyes widened under his glasses. Sam was _big_. How big, he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t gotten a great look before the porter was pushing his hips forward. The warm head of Sam’s cock pressed slowly into him. 

_That_ was much larger than a finger. Or even two. 

“Heartman—” Judging by the way Heartman’s muscles tensed and the legs flanking him began to shake, Sam could tell the escalation was pushing limits.

“Keep going.” Heartman breathed as if sensing Sam’s rising trepidation. 

“If you’re sure.” Sam mumbled. He slid his hips against the other slowly, only stopping to pull out a fraction of an inch before continuing. 

The stretching now was almost uncomfortable. It would have been if Heartman hadn’t been so turned on by the way Sam’s arms wrapped around him and squeezed. Going from not touching at all to having Sam laying practically his full weight against him was insane. All that tension and finally being given an outlet was enough for his body to beg for every inch Sam was giving him. 

“ _Fuck.”_ Sam huffed then sighed as he felt his hips go flush against Heartman. 

Heartman bucked his hips needily under Sam, trying to press himself further down. Sam responded by squeezing him tighter. A signal to stop moving that went ignored. 

The arms around the other moved down instead to Heartman’s hips to hold them in place. Already he could feel himself sweating under his tank top, thanks in part to the heat radiating between the two. 

Sam moaned against Heartman’s neck when he finally started moving on his own again. The pace was steady, as if he wanted to savor each stroke despite being on the clock. Heartman was so tight and it’d been so long that he was sure he wasn’t going to need however long they had left.

“Sam, _harder._ ” The scientist demanded breathily. 

Another grunt and Sam jerked himself into the other with a resonating slap of their thighs at the contact. Heartman yelped at the feeling of Sam’s length pounding into the deepest parts of him. With each subsequent thrust, a warmth spread out through him in cascading waves. The bundle of nerves inside him responded to the roughness with pulse after pulse of pleasure. Heartman grabbed at the side of the couch with a white knuckled grip.

The AED was chirping so furiously now that it could have very well been one constant tone. Sam should have been concerned but the harder he fucked, the more Heartman shook and whimpered. Making someone else feel that good was intoxicating. Even more so, it felt so good to drive his cock into something warm.

With Sam encompassing him so thoroughly he could hardly touch himself. The free hand wrapped around Sam’s shoulders again, this time his fingers tangled into the messy hair. He pulled and grabbed but Sam hardly seemed to notice.

“Wait- I’m going to cum.” The scientist managed to breath out over his own heart monitor and Sam’s groaning. He hadn’t anticipated to be so sensitive and the rougher Sam got, the closer he was pushed to his edge. 

The cry only encouraged Sam, though. Nearly immediately after his warning, Sam slammed himself into the other with intent. Heartman’s whole body tensed as he was forced into climax. His dick twitched and spasmed between the two of them as he came. Sam didn’t stop even at the other’s cries of ecstasy, adding to the heat and intensity of his orgasm. 

Sam lifted himself off of Heartman when he went slack. The AED was losing its momentum now, but still chirped away energetically. Sam’s movements slowed to a more reasonable pace. Porting day in and day out was the ultimate endurance training regiment, so there was no need to catch his breath. Finishing himself off wasn’t as dramatic. He cared more about his partner than he did himself, after all. 

He preferred the gradual build up while he looked down at the exhausted and frazzled looking Heartman.

With a final thrust, he sheathed himself into the scientist. The hands around Heartman’s hips tightened as he filled the other’s insides. Heartman, despite having already finished, again tried to press himself onto the porter while he studied the way Sam’s face scrunched. 

Soon the only thing left between them was heavy breathing. Sam leaned forward to place a tired kiss against Heartman’s lips then slumped backward, onto the opposite arm rest. Heartman stayed put, eyes going to the ceiling while the haze of desire and instinct began to clear.

“Three minutes until cardiac arrest.” A robotic voice called out. Heartman lifted his head and looked to his sides and gave an exhausted laugh when he found the AED wedged into the cushions. 

“Record time. Good job.” He extended a thumbs up out into the air in Sam’s general direction.

“ _Good job?_ Really?” Sam snorted. He tucked himself away, but Heartman was still splayed and… dripping onto the furniture. 

“I could extrapolate, if you wish.”

“ _No_.” Sam added quickly, “No. That’s fine.” Heartman only responded with a knowing smirk.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a handful of seconds, Heartman finally moved. Only to get a towel to clean himself and the mess they made up. He returned to lounge with Sam after donning a pair of boxers. _This_ was nice. It was comfortable- maybe a bit sticky- but comfortable. Heartman didn’t comment on the reddening marks on Sam’s skin, though his mind ventured to visualize the ones he couldn’t see. Normally, he would ask or theorize regardless of response. Right now, though, he was content to indulge in Sam’s fondness for quiet.

With the one minute warning, Sam was surprisingly the one to finally speak up, “Round 2 when you get back?”  
  



End file.
